Heart of Gold

by J. R. Ward

  Nick frowned and narrowed his eyes.

  “We’re okay,” she told him as she quickly finished the sherry. “I’m going to be fine.”

  She could feel him staring at her, testing her, and was relieved when all he did was ask if she wanted a refill.

  She glanced down at the delicate crystal. “Yes, I think I do.”

  When he handed her the glass back, she immediately took another sip. Anything to keep herself busy.

  From across the porch, Nick watched Carter closely, remembering what it felt like to kiss her.

  Frustration mounted, tightening the muscles in his shoulders.

  That comment she’d made about Candace, the one that had separated them up on the mountain, had been apropos but sure as hell unwelcome. It pointed out a discrepancy he found intolerable. Having spent months with Candace, he knew damn well he didn’t care about her and yet she was still in his life. Carter, the one he really wanted, was on the fringes. Nick was struck with an urgent need to reverse the circumstances.

  He heard Carter sigh and had to grit his teeth as he took a seat.

  She leaned her head back and began to rock herself, her eyes rising up to the porch ceiling. He’d never seen a more attractive woman. She was silhouetted against the lake view, her strong profile accentuated by the light coming down from the sky. Her hair fell around her shoulders in a shining black wave and, thanks to the sherry, the color was coming back into her face. His eyes traveled down the length of her and came to rest on her calves and thighs.

  Feeling himself harden, he shifted in the chair.

  “I owe you an apology for last night,” she said, abruptly. She turned her head to look at him with hooded eyelids. “I’m sorry that I lost my temper like that.”

  He shook his head, ready to accept his own blame for the flare-up. “You don’t have to apologize.”

  She swallowed the last of her sherry. “I don’t usually behave like that. Never have, actually.”

  “Well, I deserved it. I can be a rude son of a bitch.” He paused. “I was being a son of a bitch. Why are you smiling?”

  He asked the question even though he really didn’t care why. Just seeing her lips tilt upward and her eyes lighten pleased him.

  “I didn’t think I’d ever hear you admit something like that.”

  Nick shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest. “Yeah, you and a lot of people. Just keep it to yourself. I like to cultivate my mystique.”

  “You mean this tough-guy thing is just an act?”

  Nick told himself that talking was good. Kissing her was infinitely better, but at least if they were talking he had a good reason to look at her.

  “Power is the sum of two things. Force of will and the impression of invincibility. If people know they can affect your behavior, they’ll exploit the weakness. I don’t give anyone tools to use against me.”

  Her eyes flashed to his again. There was an assessing quality to them and, behind that, a vulnerability that brought out both the predator and the protector in him.

  “You’re a very hard man.”

  He laughed softly. “I prefer the term ‘realistic.’”

  “And yet when Cort is around, you seem more…”

  “Irritable?”

  “Human.”

  He caught a subtle change in her voice, a slight lilt of approval in the words. He liked it.

  “Cort is my family. And family is different.” When she raised an eyebrow, he said, “You seem surprised.”

  She shrugged. “I’m glad you think your family is important. I imagine your life would be very lonely if you didn’t have any ties to people at all.”

  Coming from anyone else, the comment would have been easy to turn away from. He’d dismissed statements like it before, usually as they were being thrown at him by women on their way out of his life. From Carter, though, it was impossible to push aside and he pondered his isolation for a moment. He was connected to Cort, Gertie, and Ivan. That was about it.

  She was right. He did have a lonely life.

  And instead of becoming defensive, he found himself liking her candor and insight.

  “This is good sherry,” she murmured. Lithely, she unfolded herself out of the rocker and crossed the porch. She poured herself another, her hands steady on the decanter and the glass.

  “I talked to Cort,” she said as she sat back down. “Tried to get him to see that I’m a fantasy to him, nothing more. As soon as he realizes I put my pants on one leg at a time like everyone else, he’ll be fine. I hope.”

  “How was he doing?” Nick could feel his body tighten with stress.

  “He’s hurt. But I’m sure he’ll get over it.”

  “I tried to talk to him last night but it didn’t go well.”

  Carter glanced over at him, her lovely blue eyes full of conviction. “I know it’s hard right now, but he’s a very good kid and he’s going to grow up into a very good man.”

  Nick released some of his frustration with his breath. “Yeah, well, I wish to hell it was because of me, instead of in spite of me. It feels like this fighting is all we’ve got.”

  “You’re too alike to get along now and too alike not to get along later. Trust me, I know all about bad family dynamics. You two will figure it out.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  There was a long silence between them. A breeze drifted off the lake, wandered onto the porch.

  Her lips tipped up at the corners.

  “You’re smiling again,” he told her softly.

  “Am I?” She tilted the glass and sipped a little more sherry.

  “Could it be that you’re enjoying my company?”

  Carter leaned her head back again and stared at him. He thought there was a sensual speculation in her expression and relished the implications.

  “I hate to disappoint you but it’s probably the sherry,” she said, looking away. “And the fact that I forgot to eat lunch.”

  But then her eyes drifted back to his and the heat was still in them.

  “I think you’re lying,” he said huskily.

  Her cheeks got more pink but she firmly changed the subject. “The dig’s coming along well.”

  He frowned, unsatisfied and hungry, and had to force some enthusiasm into his voice. “Really?”

  Carter launched into a detailed report, which he mostly didn’t hear. He asked a couple of questions, to urge her on, but he was really concentrating on how he could make her stay for dinner and when he would see her next.

  Alone, he thought, he wanted to get her alone. But how?

  When her speech was over, Carter unexpectedly presented him with an opportunity.

  “Today I was down at the boathouse. I saw your collection of boats,” she murmured. “You’ve got all the bases covered. Speed, cruises, sailing.”

  “I like to be on the water.”

  “Me, too.”

  The soft purr behind the words made her sleepy expression downright seductive and turned the two words into an invitation he hoped to hell she meant.

  “Would you like to go out on the lake?”

  “I would.” She smiled widely.

  Nick’s body became white-hot. He knew he was going to have her. His heart began to thunder and he struggled to keep his voice calm and measured.

  “The wind’s supposed to be good tomorrow through the beginning of next week. We could take a sail.”

  Her face changed and unhappiness flared in her eyes. “What about Candace?”

  Nick wanted to curse.

  “She’s going to be leaving soon,” he said roughly.

  “Ah, but when will she be back?” Carter’s laugh was bitter.

  “She won’t be.” It was a vow and, after a moment, she nodded at him gravely.

  When she spoke next, her voice stroked him as it rode on the summer breeze across the porch. “Then as soon as she goes, we’ll head out on the lake.”

  Watching her mouth move, Nick was prepared to hunt the other woman dow
n and send her bouncing out the door with her designer luggage that very afternoon. He wondered where Candace was and how long it might take to find her.

  But then an unfamiliar car drove up and the Swifts got out. When Buddy saw Carter, he waved and came ambling over.

  At the sight of the other man, Nick’s anticipation evaporated. He glared in her partner’s direction and leaned in close to Carter.

  “Tell you what,” he growled. “You do a little cleaning up of your own and then we’ll talk about going for that sail.”

  Nick was tempted to kick the man off his property. A part of him felt ridiculous at the surge of jealousy, but logic didn’t stand a chance against the emotions he was feeling. Images of her with Buddy, the two entwined and twisted in a sleeping bag, made him want to pound the guy into the ground.

  “I can’t believe it,” Buddy said when he got within earshot, “but I actually found a rental car in the Adirondacks.”

  The Swifts mounted the porch, their feet clapping against the boards. After Ellie headed into the house to use the bathroom, Carter started to get up out of the rocker and faltered. Both men reached out to steady her, but Nick shot a warning glare at her friend. The other man dropped his hands immediately.

  “Whoa,” Carter said, grabbing onto Nick’s arm. She let go of it as soon as she had her footing. “I guess I had a little too much sherry.”

  “You don’t drink,” Buddy said, shooting her a curious look.

  “And now I’m remembering why.” Carter glanced up at Nick. “I think I better lie down for a minute. You got a spare bed in this ark?”

  Nick nodded, willing to do anything to keep her from going up his mountain with another man.

  The screen door opened and Ellie emerged with Cort by her side.

  “I got lost,” the girl said with a smile.

  “And I found her.” Cort wasn’t smiling but he sent a long, measuring glance in Ellie’s direction.

  “We better get going,” Buddy said to his daughter. “Carter’s going to meet us up at camp later.”

  As the Swifts left, Cort lingered on the edge of the porch, watching them walk across the lawn.

  “I think I’ll come up to the dig tomorrow,” he murmured before heading back into the house.

  The screen door bumped shut, and Carter and Nick were alone again.

  “Just point me in any direction,” she mumbled, “and I’ll do my best to get through your house in one piece.”

  “I’ll take you upstairs.”

  He led her through the mansion, wishing that she’d stop brushing his hand away and take the arm he offered.

  They ascended the grand staircase, and Nick took them down the hall to the bedroom with the best view in the house. It was a peach-colored sanctuary that faced the lake and had its own second-story porch. It also had a bed he thought she might like, a great canopied antique covered with floral bedding.

  He imagined her lying naked on it.

  “This is beautiful,” she said reverently, going over to the stack of pillows. Her fingers were light as they brushed over them. “I’ll bet these sheets are cool and will crunch like my grandmother’s used to.”

  She checked the seat of her pants before she sat down and bounced a little on the soft mattress.

  “You should be comfortable here.” His voice sounded hoarse and he wondered if she noticed.

  “Hard to believe anyone wouldn’t be.”

  “And feel free to take a shower. It’s through there,” he said, pointing to a door.

  “Now, that sounds like heaven.” She began taking off her hiking boots.

  Nick dragged himself over to the doorway. He knew he had to leave. His hand gripped the doorknob tightly.

  “Sleep well,” he said.

  Carter nodded, already on her way into the marbled extravagance of the bath.

  Nick stepped out of the room and closed the door but couldn’t let go of the damn knob.

  When he heard the water go on, he imagined her stepping beneath the jets, her back arching as she wet her hair. That was when he turned and went downstairs. He knew if he didn’t get the hell away from the door, he was liable to try to get in the shower with her.

  Heading to the kitchen, he went in search of Ivan and found the man taking his four o’clock tea with his wife.

  “You get her settled?” Gertie inquired as she put a plate of shortbreads on the table in front of her husband.

  “You knew she was here?” Nick took a seat and smiled as a cup of Earl Grey was slid in front of him.

  “I figured that empty sherry glass on the porch wasn’t yours.”

  “Something scared her off the mountain?” Ivan asked while picking up his teacup. His workman’s hands gripped the dainty handle with care, the scars on his skin and his calluses seeming out of place on the fine Limoges. When he put it back down, it was without a sound, precisely in the center of its saucer.

  Nick nodded. “She had a run-in with a bear.”

  “You want me to track it?”

  “That’d be great. If you think there’s going to be trouble, I’m going to yank them off the site, at least after dark. The last thing we need is to have a bunch of archaeologists served up as a midnight snack. During the day, at least they can see what’s coming at them.”

  “I don’t like having people up there,” Ivan said, looking down into his tea.

  Nick smiled. It was the closest the man would ever come to expressing disfavor with him.

  “Then you’ll be happy to know, they’ve already started digging. They may be gone in under a month.”

  He frowned, finding his own words disturbing. He thought of the woman upstairs, who had probably dried off and slid between the sheets by now. He didn’t relish the idea of her leaving anytime soon.

  Finishing his tea, Nick got to his feet.

  “Like I said before, make sure she’s safe up there,” he told Ivan before nodding thanks to Gertie. “I don’t want anything happening to her.”

  “Don’t you mean them?” the woodsman asked.

  “Yeah, right. Of course. Them.”

  Nick was aware that the McNutts were looking at him strangely, but he wasn’t in the mood to answer questions. As he walked through the house, he thought it was probably better to keep to himself, at least until the hunger for the woman in his guest room passed.

  Although on that logic, he thought grimly, he probably should lock himself up in his study until she left.

  8

  CARTER WOKE up in a dark, unfamiliar room and panicked. Her body was wrapped in a towel and she had no immediate recollection as to where in the hell her clothes were. It wasn’t until she sat up and her head started to pound that she remembered where she was. And why.

  Moving hair gingerly out of her face, she put both feet on the floor and stood up with a groan. The worst hangover she’d ever had was sitting on her skull like a piece of heavy machinery. A steamroller. Or maybe a dump truck.

  How could something as highbrow as sherry, sipped from a little crystal glass, do so much damage? She’d have expected it from rotgut wine or a fleet of wretched, fruity cocktails drunk in some seedy bar. But sherry? On a porch?

  Carter fumbled around until she found a lamp beside the bed and turned it on. The soft glow made her headache howl in protest. She switched the thing off and then realized she’d managed to blind herself completely.

  Not a good call.

  Moving in the direction she thought the bathroom was in, she knocked her shin on the leg of an armchair and almost went back to bed.

  Of course, that would mean she might sleep through the night and have to see Nick in the morning. This wasn’t a prospect she felt up to handling, especially if she was still hungover. She’d propositioned him for a date, for all intents and purposes, and followed that little ditty up by demanding that he get rid of his girlfriend.

  As she remembered his response, though, excitement swirled in her stomach. It was a heady feeling that lasted until it occurred to h
er that she’d taken another step closer toward a man she’d resolved to stay away from. If she knew what was good for her, she’d stick to digging holes at the site and not go creating them in her own life.

  Cursing and hobbling through the darkness, Carter eventually felt cool marble under her feet. The pile of clothes was where she’d left it on the counter, but before she attempted that obstacle course, she splashed her face and had two glasses of water. Both improved the headache some and she got dressed quickly.

  After making the bed, she went over to the door. Opening it a crack, she waited for her eyes to adjust to the hall light. There was no one around, and she was relieved by all the silence. She stepped out and looked at the three different branches the corridor split into. The choices were overwhelming.

  Thanks to the sherry-induced stupor she’d been in, she couldn’t remember which way to go.

  Picking a direction randomly, she went some distance and, when the stairs didn’t appear, figured she was lost. She was about to double back when she heard voices.

  “Why are my clothes in this guest room?” Candace’s voice was soft and filled with hurt.

  Carter froze. Down to the left, Candace and Nick were standing in a doorway.

  “I asked Gertie to move you here.”

  “Why?”

  “Because things have changed.” Nick’s tone brooked no negotiation, his face a mask of cold control.

  “Changed?” Hysteria sharpened the word. “What do you mean changed?”

  “Things are not working out between us.”

  “But you asked me up here.” Candace sounded confused and disappointed but then stared at him in disbelief. “It’s that ditchdigger, isn’t it?”

  Nick’s silence was a powerful answer. Carter drew in a breath, unable to believe what was happening.

  “Tell me the truth,” the woman demanded. “Come on. I’ve seen the way you look at her.”

  When Nick stayed quiet, she straightened her shoulders and tossed her hair back. “Maybe I should just leave.”

  “Yes, I think that’s a good idea.”